


Traci's Secret

by Windwyrm



Series: DBH oneshots [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23382649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windwyrm/pseuds/Windwyrm
Relationships: Connor & Echo | Blue-Haired Traci & Ripple | Blue-Haired Traci's Girlfriend, Echo | Blue-Haired Traci/Ripple | Blue-Haired Traci's Girlfriend
Series: DBH oneshots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1651753
Kudos: 19





	Traci's Secret

There was a butterfly on the violets. A rare sight, and so beautiful. So lovely. Its tiny, iridescent wings beating softly as it probed the flower for nectar. She turned to show it to her lover, but she had already seen it for herself. The intricate, unique patterns that would never be replicated by any other genomes. The simple systems and chemical compounds that all interconnected and functioned harmoniously to create a tiny living being.

Dusty wings fluttered and the butterfly set off, trailing specks of pollen that glimmered in the sunlight.

It was all perfect, almost artificial in its machinations. But such was nature - a creator more powerful than their own…

And enjoying it with her lover multiplied the awe and wonder, as their thoughts and feelings echoed and rippled through their connected hands. What Traci enjoyed, Traci in turn looked at, and together, whatever it was would look infinitely more beautiful. Through her visuals, through her processing, there were new things to notice, novel ways to love every single experience. The singing birds, the blooming flowers, the sprouting clover, the occasional falling petal and flying butterfly, the pigeons flocking on the cobblestone pathways and the way sunlight tinted their feathers, the pet dogs and the children playing together regardless of descriptors, the androids and humans enjoying the first days of spring after a strange winter… or their first days of spring, ever.

They recognized his features from a distance - that particular android was unmistakable. Not solely because of their personal histories with him, but rather the fact that he was a one of a kind model - he could be identified by visual input alone. He wore different clothes, a black t-shirt with a colorful print, an unbuttoned flannel shirt on top, a pair of unassuming jeans. His changed appearance was the least surprising element of the encounter, but as the humans say, _it’s a small world._

“Deviant hunter!” Traci called out.

He turned his head - unexpected he would respond - but perhaps he would always be aware of the associated descriptor. A hesitant smile thrown in their direction. A slight wave.

They walked towards him, which caused him obvious unease, albeit temporary.

With a courteous smile, Traci addressed him, “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

He appeared momentarily confused by the humanlike smalltalk, but eventually responded with a nod. “How are you,... Traci, is it still?” His gaze swapped from one to the other.

“Yes.”

“Haven’t…” His eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, his head tilting slightly. “Haven’t you chosen new names for yourselves? Most deviants have done so.”

The two Tracis looked towards each other in response to the absurd question.

“There is no need for that. She knows me and I know her.”

“But, what about others?”

“Others either do not matter, or they can adapt and accept.”

He tilted his head again, LED flashing yellow briefly, although his expression would have been indication enough of his confusion. Information processed, he straightened his position. “I assume that statement to be entirely subjective and thus correct.”

“What of you, deviant hunter? Have you found your place?”

“I…” He shook his head, avoiding eye contact, a strangely human gesture. “With what humans have done to you - to most androids - you wouldn’t understand.”

“Let us,” Traci said, offering a hand in his direction.

He looked at it, then up at them. Hesitantly he reached out for her hand, artificial skin withdrawing from his fingers as he touched her own exposed wrist.

There was anguish, confusion, fear, - painful and assigned to neglected cores with attempts to alter the priority, but which still affected his performance. They resonated and amplified within Traci’s own doubts and fears, creating a momentary cacophony that they immediately quelled from both ends - distasteful memories better left alone as background processes.

But there also was something else within Connor - an immense attachment of indescribable potency. It read foreign, the language jumbled, the clauses overly complicated... yet it was familiar at its condensed and undiluted essence - the knowledge of safety and comfort - unconditional acceptance and attachment - something reminiscent of what Traci felt for her lover.  
  


He broke the connection, retrieving his hand, momentarily looking at it before turning his skin back on and looking back at Traci.

She smiled, still holding the hand of her lover, who was looking into the distance.

“Look,” Traci squeezed her lover’s hand, pointing her hand at the object of interest - a redundant action perhaps intended more for the third party. “It’s so beautiful.”

Gaze trailing over the graceful and delicate arm, following what her lover was pointing at, Traci’s focus fell on the curtain of water droplets generated by the sprinklers. The sun lit them up like starlets, quivering in iridescent hues as they rained over the grass and flowers, and over -

“Ah, shit. _Sumo_!”

And before Traci could react, Connor turned around and sprinted off.  
  


  
WR400-950455437.RemoteServices.Messaging.Send(Android.RK800-313248317-55, " **What happened?** ");  
Connor@RK800-313248317-55: **The dog. He’s** —  
WR400-950455437.RemoteServices.Messaging.Receive(Android.RK800-313248317-55, FileType:Video, << _a sequence of the dog biting at sprinklers; rolling around in the mud; rolling on a carpet; rolling on the bedsheets_ >>);  
Connor@RK800-313248317-55: **Hank is going to kill me!**  
WR400-950455437.RemoteServices.Messaging.Send(Android.RK800-313248317-55, " **That sounds worrying. I assumed your human wasn’t like that.** ");  
Connor@RK800-313248317-55: **It is simply an expression.**  
  


They watched him sprint through the sprinklers, the lingering connection still allowing some of his odd mix of anxiety and humor to pass through. He had successfully dodged some of the jets, but soon visibly resigned to his fate, wet to the frame - his contradicting gestures almost comical - changing at a moment’s notice between attempting to grab the barking and bouncing dog and attempting to stop himself from getting wetter - both futile. But at least they were accompanied by a wide grin on the outside - and lingering pleasant and happy feelings as the connection severed fully.

Traci entangled her fingers with her lover’s hand once more, squeezing tightly. They both smiled; at each other; at the scene; at the world that still held infinite wonder and beauty. The world they would keep navigating together, as one.


End file.
